


Firsts

by Camfield



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camfield/pseuds/Camfield
Summary: The first time Jesse McCree saw Hanzo Shimada in action he nearly got his head shot off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> McHanzo week - Prompt 1 - First Time
> 
> First fic in this fandom too. Unbeta'd, mistakes are my own. :)

The first time Jesse McCree saw Hanzo Shimada in action he nearly got his head shot off.

Perfection. 

He was liquid grace. Running up the sides of the building to his left to perch on top of the peaked roof. Bow slung from his back into position as he scanned the ground, then the other rooftops, for enemy targets.

McCree, watching the man as he did so, somehow ended up face to face with an Omnic without even realizing it. Stupidly so, considering the noise that they made, the grinding clank-whirr of moving metal parts absurdly loud once his attention was on it. Frozen for the half second it needed to bring its integrated canon to bear, a hum as it charged up and his body finally kicked into gear. A flashbang slammed into it’s chest making it snap and freeze and Jesse pulling back a half dozen steps to fan all six shots into its carapace, the light in the Omnic’s optical sensors dimming, then fading as the body crashes to the ground. His heart yammering with fear and adrenaline and goddamn.

There’s a derisive snort from above him, and he fumbles with his reloader for a second before slamming the bullets home and looking up to see the older Shimada eyeing him.

“...What.”

Another snort, and he turned away from the cowboy, scanning the city once again.

And once again, McCree is caught watching. How the metallic soles of Hanzo’s feet give him purchase, how he can cling to the brick and wood with barely a handhold at all. How he can somehow scale impossible walls, crouch on rooftops and balconies and-

“Watch yourself, McCree,” he muttered to himself. Tearing his eyes from the rooftops to peer into alleys and dark corners. Determined not to get distracted again, focusing on the mission, the quiet, unnatural darkness that came with ghost towns and abandoned buildings. Listening for the click of gears, the grind of metal.

It isn’t until later, when he’s laying in his bunk and remembering everything in shuddering detail that he allows himself to wonder what it’d feel like to hold those legs, those arms. Feel the muscle so prominently displayed in his actions. If the man would let him or fight him, push him away or give him a haughty look that beckoned him closer.

Jesse wanted. For the first time since he’d joined back up with Overwatch, Jesse McCree lay in his bunk and dreamt of a man with metal legs, a bare shoulder and more poise than any man ought to have.

That was only the start of firsts with Shimada, and he didn’t want them to stop.


End file.
